Just Lucky, I Guess
by hippiechick2112
Summary: It is Friday the Thirteenth. Everybody seems to be having bad luck...except Father Mulcahy. Has he been distinctly picked out or does he just have luck on his side? Part sixteen of "Priestly Blunders".


**Just Lucky, I Guess**

 **Note and Disclaimer: Here we go again. Gotta say this isn't mine. But I love to write about it. Enjoy!**

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I was fortunate that I managed to persuade Klinger not to join the priesthood. It was enough that he did not have the abilities to make a good one and we did not have to speed through enemy fire to reach our destination. Now, I had to contend with all of the bad luck in the camp. After all, it was the superstitious holiday of Friday the Thirteenth. People were going to flock to me for advice on how to handle this seditious day on the calendar.

Colonel Blake called me to his office first thing in the morning. I expected it. He usually had some memo he wanted to go over with me if it was important. It was a rare treat. I was never really useful. But I relished these meetings and always kept in mind that I too was as important as these doctors and nurses.

I entered his office with trepidation after Radar introduced me. I was a little wary of this day as well, Catholic or not. "Colonel, you wanted to see me?"

"Oh, yes, Father, I did." Colonel Blake riffled through his desk, looking for something. "Now, I know that I had something to discuss with you."

"Is it about today?" I asked generally.

"Well, of course, it's about events for today," he replied in the same vague manner. "Now, where the hell did that paper go…?"

The implications were pretty hazy indeed. I watched as the colonel dig through the various drawers of his desk. Eventually, I heard a bang and some loud cursing. Colonel Blake retracted his right hand with the left, holding it up in a childish way. Apparently, he had gotten the fingers caught somehow. The targeted area blared red with irritation.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Father," Colonel Blake said. "I didn't mean – I mean, it wasn't like that."

"No, of course not," I conceded. "Now, what did you want to talk over with me?"

"I think it can wait until later." The colonel began nursing his hurt digits by sucking on them with his lips. "We're having a stag – I mean, _staff_ meeting this afternoon in the Mess Tent. Why don't you join us?"

"It will be my pleasure," I said. I ignored the obvious slip.

When I left, I passed Radar. He was trying to exchange some of our supplies for what we needed, but did not seem to have much good fortune. He waved me away when I tried helping. I shrugged my shoulders and exited the building. When I did, I was soon flanked by Majors Burns and Houlihan. He was on my right and she was on the left.

Major Burns soon held a Bible to my face. The words blurred. "Father, can you explain this passage for us?" he inquired urgently. "It talks of bringing your foreign neighbor into the fold. But what if you _are_ on foreign soil?"

"Well, as the Bible also says, God tells us to love one another, no matter where you are," I stuttered. "Unfortunately, we are in a land where we are not welcome, by any means."

"But see here," Major Houlihan interjected, her finger on the next page, "it also says that you _must_ take in your foreign visitors as your own."

"So, does that mean that the Koreans need to respect us?" Major Burns added.

"Most are not Catholics here," I pointed out, "but yes, if we are to be human, created in the image of God, then we would have to welcome all visitors, no matter who they are."

The two continued to pelt me with these types of questions. I don't know exactly where they came from or why. I answered them to the best of my abilities and continued the walk they started. I think we went around the camp twice before they stopped before the kitchens, tired of their conversation. But just as they were about to leave, Igor stumbled out the back door with several trays of food in his arms. One step and he tripped over a stone, spilling our lunch all over the two. I was left unharmed.

Furious was hardly how Major Burns felt. "You – you – you _miscreant_!" he yelled.

Major Houlihan was no better. "I am _covered_!" she moaned. Her arms lifted like a young bird, heavy with the weight.

It felt pretty odd. I was between the pair, stuck in the middle, and managed to come out of it safe. Before I could hear another tongue-lashing, I left poor Igor to his demise and hurried away. But as I strolled the grounds and was stopped by several people, I heard that the most unbecoming misfortune fell upon the whole camp. I seemed to the only one immune to the unlucky day's touch.

I mean, Klinger could not get his dresses to stop ripping in the back and was forced to wear his actual service uniform (the only clothing that did not tear). Hawkeye and Trapper's still shattered and they could not find any parts to fix it. Nurse Kellye lost every piece of jewelry she put on today. Radar not only could not trade anything, but also had his teddy bear stuffed into the latrine by someone, where he could not reach it. Even Ho-Jon, who came to the Swamp occasionally to clean and make drinks, was subjected to this bad luck. He dropped all of the martini glasses and they shattered!

By the end of the day, my head was spinning. I had listened to enough confessions to last me a lifetime. I was the shoulder to cry on when things went wrong. When Post-Op inhabitants needed someone to talk to, I was there. All of it had to do with this Friday the thirteenth. I didn't think God to be this cruel!

Because of the mishaps, the staff meeting was moved to after dinner. I arrived there early enough to grab a cup of coffee and relax. All the while, I thought back on the past events. I didn't have too much time to ponder though. Trapper and Hawkeye joined me at the table.

"Say, Father, how was your day?" Trapper sipped some coffee.

"I didn't hear anything bad happen to the Padre," Hawkeye added. "Or did it? Were you lucky with a nurse today?"

"Oh, no," I answered calmly. "No, not at all. I did not experience any such chaos."

The two exchanged looks. I didn't perceive it as bad. They seemed incredulous that I alone was the only to experience nothing. I continued to drink as the two recounted more woes. Eventually, they stopped. Trapper glanced at me with quizzical eyes.

He seemed to be spooked though. "Father, how is it that you've been singled out?"

"Yeah, it seems like the Big Man up there put a shield around you," Hawkeye said.

I didn't have a clue, to be honest, and found Hawkeye's assessment hilarious (even if it was technically blasphemy). I smiled and finished my cup and contemplated grabbing another. However, I did not think it fair. Hawkeye and Trapper were waiting for an answer. I had to work it out in my head and only shrugged my shoulders.

"Oh, just lucky, I guess," I finally declared. "Comes with the collar."

 _That_ killed their curiosity quickly. I got up for my second serving of coffee. Being a priest has its perks, I realized with another smile upon my return to the table. One of them was making up some good excuses for when the good happened. Friday the thirteenth seemed to be the best excuse.

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 **This story is for cmee57 (formally ImaLatebloomer). Miss you and wish you all the best!**


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